


Raise To The Clouds

by The_Capslock_Queen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dreams, Fiction, Friendship, Gen, Reality, Sky Pirates, Sky Sailing, Verses, Written for a competition, quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 00:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Capslock_Queen/pseuds/The_Capslock_Queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Astley was not, under any circumstance, lazy or crazy. He was, however, rebellious and wished to be with his head up in the clouds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Verse One

**Verse One**

**"**   _Never let go of your dreams_   **"**

 

Arthur Astley was by no means stupid. He was actually quite a bright child. Yet, he wished for the impossible.

When he'd one day proclaimed to his parents - in a gathering of the noble, no less - that he wanted to become a captain of the sky, the people had begun their gossiping. 

Other children, having heard of this from their parents, began to outright bully him. The adults did not direct their mockeries towards him, but subtle was another word. He could quite well hear their 'whispers' and, seeing as he was not blind, he could see the looks they sent him.

His parents had pulled him apart quickly after his proclamation and they had given him an earful. Even after the event, family members had continued to chide him.

 _"You're already eight, you should know better!_ _"_  

 _"Do not speak of this to_ anyone _again!"_  

_"You are to one day marry and become the head of this family. You must think of our image!"_

_"Sky Sailors are filthy people. Do not associate yourself with them."_

Arthur, however, would not be deterred. While he did not speak of it anymore - he used to be an obedient child - he continued to dream.

He would lay in his bed at night, envisioning his Sky Ship. He envisioned how he'd sail the clouds, explore the world. He'd be respected throughout the kingdom - the  _world_ , even. He'd have a large crew - no, a small, but terribly loyal one.

He imagined what it would be like to run his fingers trough the clouds, to have the wind embrace him. 

He desired so much to be Sky Sailor, but what he desired most was to be free.

 

* * *

 

 Arthur soon turned ten. It was a joyous occasion and his family took the liberty of inviting every child in his class.

The Astleys had been glad to think that over the past two years Arthur had given up on his silly little dream. Even the gossip among the nobles had ceased.

On the day of his birthday party, Arthur's family had told him to make a speech. If he were to one day be the head of the family, he would have to do this numerous times, and this was perfect practice - or so they'd said. 

When everyone was seated, Arthur stood from his seat at the head of the table. He stated that he'd thought long and hard about his future and he'd decided that he wasn't going to be a Sky Sailor. No, he had bigger ambitions.

He could see the pleased expression on his family's faces.

Arthur continued by saying that he was going to be a captain. The captain of a Sky Pirate crew.

The Astleys were horrified. 

The children that had been invited - each and every one of them from a noble family like his, and none of them his friend - burst out in laughter.

And Arthur welcomed it.

With every laugh and mock, his desire to blow them all off their socks grew. He was going to show them. He was going to be great, and they would be stuck in their repetitive little lives, never becoming better than they were now. They'd never know true freedom or the sweet taste of adventure.

Arthur could not stop grinning that day, even after his family had screamed at him for his words. It did not faze him. He simply told them again and again that he was going to be a pirate captain, as many times as he needed to.

His family's protests grew, and with it grew Arthur's rebelliousness.

Arthur would no longer simply do as he was told. He objected to every order he deemed unreasonable. He'd challenge his teachers and ran from his classes. This continued for weeks and soon his parents were close to desperation. 

An aunt had suggested locking him in his room whenever he would misbehave. She'd said it worked on her child. 

Arthur's parents had never thought they'd need to correct their child's behaviour in such a way. However, they wanted him to become a respectable head and they didn't want his bad behaviour to influence their youngest child, Julius.

They locked him up in his room when it got too much. He were to stay there for the rest of the day and he would not receive dinner ( or lunch, if it happened early .) If he wanted to receive food and be able to stay out and about, he'd have to be obedient and behave.

The method did not work.

When Arthur was locked away, he would sneak out. He'd open his window, climb through it and then he tried to pull it close as much as he could. He didn't want anyone to notice his window was ajar and figure out that he was gone.

He would then run to the town, which wasn't very far from the mansion he lived in. 

Arthur loved his little adventures. He'd never been allowed to venture into the town. Not with company and certainly not by himself. He was only ever driven through it in a carriage, meaning that the view he got through the tiny windows wasn't a lot. 

By going on his 'adventures' he was able to view life in a way he wouldn't have if he'd continued to live his sheltered life. He was able to view it in a way he was sure even adult nobles didn't understand.

He was able to interact with commoners, which was something he'd never had been able to do before, safe for a few servants that worked in the mansion. Arthur found himself fitting in with these 'common' people, who turned out to be more extraordinary than any of the nobles he'd met. 

His world began to open up. He made acquaintances with many people, and he started living a life separate from his noble one. 


	2. Verse Two

 

 

 

  
**Verse Two**

**"**   _In my friend, I find a second self_    **"**  

-Isabel Norton 

 

It was on one of his escapades that he met her.

Arthur saw her for the first time from across the street. She'd immediately captured his attention. She wasn't amazingly beautiful - not that he cared much about that at his age - nor was she dolled up in such a way that would indicate she was of high standing. It wasn't her appearance, or anything she'd done; what drew him to her was how she carried herself.

She walked with such poise it was hard for him not to be amazed. He'd never seen confidence ooze off of someone in a way that frightened him.

He crossed the street without much thought and ran to her. He slid to a stop in front of her. He balled his fists and exclaimed: "Please teach me how to be like you!"

"Huh?" Her voice was put to sound annoyed, but Arthur could detect a hint of confusion in it.

He looked her straight in the eyes, having to look up since he was smaller than her.

"Please, teach me how to be like you", he repeated with more determination. She creased her brows. Seconds later, she turned up her nose and scoffed. 

"Ye wanna be like me?"

Arthur nodded vigorously.

"Don't be ridiculous." Arthur flinched at the coldness of her voice. It was almost sharp. It certainly did pierce him and leave him frozen. "Go bother someone else. I don't have time for a lil' noble like yerself."

Those words hit hard.

He could feel his own arms shaking.  He tried biting his tongue to keep his anger in, but to no avail. He glowered at her. "Don't you  _dare_  lump me with them", he hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't you  _dare_  act like you're  _better_ than me." 

She merely raised her eyebrows. Arthur couldn't tell if it was a mocking gesture or genuine surprise.

He simply continued. "You have no right to treat me like less, simply because I am from a noble family!" He was barely aware of the fact his voice was growing in volume. " _I_  wouldn't dare treat  _you_  as less! I even asked for your help!" He shook his head, his anger simmering down. He'd had enough of this. He didn't want trouble, and he hoped he could still avoid it if he left now.

Arthur turned and started striding away. "I am  _nothing_ like them", he whispered to himself, trying to reassure himself.

He wasn't like them. He wasn't. 

It became a mantra he chanted under his breath while he made his way down town, trying to walk off his anger - or fright? He wasn't sure anymore. He just wanted to be sure he wasn't like them. Like the other nobles.

He knew he was raised by them, but he still did not want to be associated with them at just a glance. It was probably his speech, he told himself. Nobles tried to speak in a sophisticated manner. The 'proper' manner. He had been brought up with this speech, so that was probably all.

Arthur did not manage to convince himself.

He slowed down when he was half-way to the town centre. He took deep breaths, trying to collect himself. 

He leaned against a wall and sank down. He encircled his arms around his legs and let out a deep sigh, berating himself for losing his temper like that. 

He did not look at the passing people, simply listening to the tapping of their shoes. It distracted him and eased his mind. The busyness of the town had been able to comfort him since the first time he went there.

Arthur heard the rushed patter of sandals against the pavement and he opened his eyes when they skidded to a halt next to him.

"Ye run quick, fer a noble." 

Arthur's eyes shot open and his head snapped up to look at her.

He quickly swallowed his shock and tried to glare at her, but he gave up on that plan quickly. He wasn't in the mood to be angry anymore. "What?", he sighed, averting his head from her.

"Ye know", she said a bit heatedly, "I came after ye, 'cause yer lil' outburst made me actually think aboot how I'd handled ye. But if ye'r gunna be like that, I guess my first thoughts were right. Ye'r just a spoiled noble, aren't ye?"

Arthur stood up, bristling. This girl really had a way of getting under his skin. "I'm not!", he protested. He winced. He could almost hear his own doubt in his voice.

To his surprise, she heaved her shoulders and slid down next to where he'd previously been seated. He stared at her, blinking.

She looked back up at him, her face wiped clean of much emotion, except nonchalance. "Are ye gu'ing to sit or what?" 

Arthur hesitantly sat back down, confused by the sudden change of demeanor. 

"Victoria Alma Quinn", she said. 

Arthur tilted his head, brows furrowing slightly.

"That's my name, moron", she scoffed. She crossed her arms. "Call me Quinn." 

He nodded once, firmly, and he extended his hand. An annoyed look settled on her features, but she shook his hand either way.  

"I'm Arthur. Arthur Astley."

Quinn drawled out a "hm" whilst she eyed him from head to toe. Arthur curled in on himself a little, starting to feel self conscious under her piercing gaze. He wanted to ask if anything was wrong, but then Quinn spoke up: "Ye sure look like an Artie. Or Art?"

It was Arthur's turn to regard her, but he did it with confusion - an emotion Quinn seemed to easily summon in him. 

"Ye know", Quinn explained, "A nickname. Ye do have a nickname, right? Every'un has one."

Arthur merely shook his head. "I don't." He rested his chin on his knees. "Nobles don't really like nicknames, I suppose. All they're concerned about is their wealth and their status, and they want to be addressed by their full names - plus their titles, of course." He snorted. "We wouldn't want to be disrespected to those terribly important people, now would we?"

He heard her laughing as soon as he'd finished his little rant.

"Ye really ain't like 'em, are ye, Art?" She wiped at her eye. She looked at him, curiousity now planted within her eyes. "But why is that, Artie? And why would ye wanna be like me?"

Arthur turned so he was fully facing her. He looked at her, filled to the brim with determination. "I want to be a Sky Pirate", he spoke with confidence. "A captain, to be more precise." 

Quinn whistled, eyes slightly wider. "Impressive. Never thought I'd hear a noble say somethin' like  _that_. But what's that gotta do with me? I ain't a Sky Pirate, y'know."

Arthur nodded. "I know. It's just.." He scratched his cheek. "You looked very intimidating. You walked with amazing confidence, and I want to be able to walk like that as well." She seemed to like this answer. A lot. She stood up with a hop, hands planted upon her hips. "I like yer ambition, Artie." She nodded to herself. "I'll teach ye."

He gasped and stood up as well. "Really?!" 

Quinn nodded again. "Yes. But it'll come at a price, y'know. I ain't cheap."

Arthur immediately deflated at the news. "I don't have money", he said. "I can't just steal from my parents. They would notice. I'd never be able to come into town again if that happens."  

Quinn squinted in thought, before snapping her fingers. "That's okay!" Arthur stared at her, incredulously. She did not seem like the type to simply give up on something like that. "I won't do it for free." She poked her finger against Arthur's chest, a smirk now having curled onto her lips. " _I'll_  be your right hand man."

He exclaimed his surprise, but Quinn covered his mouth, that annoyed look on her face again. "Shush", she said, bringing her finger to her lips. She removed her hand from his mouth and took a step back.

"Why that?", Arthur asked.

The corners of her lips quirked. "Did ye really think ye were the only one with such a wish?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know their ages, Arthur is almost eleven and Quinn is twelve, nearing thirteen.


	3. Verse Three

 

 

**Verse Three**

**"** _Keep your reality away from me_   **"**

 

 

"This one is gorgeous."

Arthur stared at the ship floating before him, safely anchored to the port. He looked at Quinn who stood beside him, also gazing at the dozens of ships for sale. 

"She really is!" Quinn nodded furiously. Arthur couldn't contain his grin at her enthusiasm. She clearly liked this one. " _Laurigera_ ", Quinn read the inscription and hummed her approval of the name. "Very fitting. A graceful name for a graceful ship."

Arthur let his gaze swipe across the ship again, and he couldn't help but think how many years had passed. Six years, that's how long Quinn and he had been friends. Admittedly, their relationship was rocky and rough in the beginning, but they had soon become inseparable friends, even if they did fight from time to time.

Quinn had staid true to her word. She had taught him how to walk with poise. Arthur, in turn, had taught her how to talk in a more sophisticated way. She had fervently rejected in the beginning, but after a while she did accept the offer. It had taken persuasion, a lot of it, but Arthur had told her the benefits of talking more like him. 

It had been eight years since he'd first started dreaming of becoming a Sky Captain, and he could see his dreams coming closer to him. 

His parents had not given their approval of his dream, but they did talk less about him becoming the head of the family. Arthur hoped they'd seen reason and had decided to make Julius the next head instead. If not Julius, who had already voiced his thoughts about becoming the head, they had Ephraim.

Ephraim had been born when Arthur had turned twelve. The boy was only five now, but Arthur saw him as the most potential new head. Arthur knew Julius would not complain if he had to take over, but he did not have any ambitions regarding being the head. Ephraim had once told him he thought it was amazing how one of them would one day take over, and that he wished he would be seen as a possibility, too. Perhaps it was the unknowing talk of a child, but Arthur knew with certainly he'd never once had had the wish of becoming the head of the family.

Arthur looked at Quinn and smiled. "I should go. My parents are waiting for me."

She sighed and playfully waved him off. "Very well. Leave me if you must!"

He chuckled and took her hand, bending to place a light kiss on her knuckles. "Fear not", he said, "I will be back soon." 

Quinn smirked, huffing out a laugh. "Such a lady killer." She slightly rolled her eyes. "Who taught you that, Artie?"

"You did", he responded whilst he turned away from her, soon having to look over his shoulder.

"Indeed, I did!" 

They both laughed and waved each other goodbye. Arthur would return the next morning. Then they would try to gather more money and they would gaze at the ships, hoping they could soon buy one.

 

 

Arthur entered the mansion, softly greeting a few servants on his way. 

Some of the servants he knew all his life. They had been there from the day he was born until now, and they were almost family, if not better than family, seeing as  _his_  family wasn't one to brag about.

Other servants were new, and did not know how to respond to the kindness of their employer's son. He had absolutely refused to be called 'young master'. Some new servants weren't unfamiliar faces. He'd met some of them in the town before. Some had not known he was an Astley and others had gotten a job because Arthur had offered it to them.

They all greeted him in different ways because of this. The old servants greeted him in a familiar way, some even with a pat on the head or a hug. The new servants replied hesitantly, almost nervously, as if they were doing something wrong by greeting him so seemingly casual.

Arthur entered the dining room to see his brothers and mother already seated, but no sign of his father.

His mother looked up and cut right to the chase. "Your father wants you in his study."

With a nod, Arthur backed out of the dining room, closing the door after. He supposed eating was postponed for now. His first task was to talk to his father. He walked down the many halls of the mansion and idly wondered how he ever found his way around. Muscle memory, he was sure.

Arthur stopped when he got to his father's study. It was easily recognized by the big, heavy, oak-wood doors and gold handles. He rapped his knuckles against them. He waited for a few seconds, before turning the handle and opening one of the doors. His father never answered to knocking, seeing as no one was to disturb him while he was in his study. But since his father had summoned him, Arthur simply had to come in. 

"You wanted me, father?", he asked after he closed the door behind him.

Arthur had receded his rebellious ways from when he was a child. He had grown to see that elaborate pranks or objections were not a great way to deal with his situation. That wasn't to say that he'd gone back to being the obedient child he once was. He still did as he wished, but he did as his parents asked once in a while. He thought it was only fair after the years of trouble he'd caused them.

His father looked up from his papers and put down his fountain pen. He motioned towards the chair in front of his desk with a flick of his hand.

Arthur sat down and idly wondered why they could not afford more comfortable chairs while they were so rich.

"I summoned you here to discuss your future", his father spoke in his deep, rough voice. 

Arthur perked up at the topic, starting to feel somewhat excited, but tried to not make it apparent.

"Soon you will turn eighteen. At that time you will take over from me. We must start preparing for the ceremony."

Arthur stood from his seat abruptly, stopping his father from saying anything else. He clenched and unclenched his fists a couple of times, until he balled them and planted them against his legs. "You cannot be serious, father", he hissed. 

His father gave him an unamused look. "I am dead serious, son."

Arthur slammed his hands down onto the desk, sending a couple of papers flying and startling his father. He was absolutely boiling with rage.

Eight years. 

 _Eight years_  he'd been telling them of his dream, telling them that he was going to pursue it no matter what, and that he wished for their acceptance.

How could they still deny him this?

"Why, father?" His voice was sharp, even to his own ears. "Why is it me that you want as the head? Simply because I am the eldest? You must know by now that I am not the right choice!" He patted his chest to emphasize. He pointed at the wall with his other arm as he said: "Why can't it be Julius? Or even Ephraim? We both know they would be more fit. They are more ambitious than me! They want to be the head! Especially Ephraim!"

He let his arm down again and curled his fingers into the fabric of his coat. "I don't  _want_  to be the head. I  _want_ to be a  _Sky Pirate_."

He took a step back when a slam resonated through the room. His father had stood up and had slammed his hands onto his desk, just as Arthur had done.

"That is enough, Arthur!", he barked. "It is high time that you give up on your childish dream! You are to be the next head of the Astley household! It does not matter if you want to be or not!"

His father took a deep breath. "This is your reality, Arthur", he said, calmly now. "It is time you come to reason."

Arthur's anger had only been fed by his father's words. He was red in the face and he was sure he was going to rip his coat if he did not release it. 

"If that's the case, keep your damn 'reality' away from me,  _father_ ", he hissed the last word. He turned and strode out the study, the wooden door swinging shut with a mighty slam.

How could they do this to him? Arthur knew they had never fully accepted his dream, but he'd thought they'd at least realised he was never going to be the head. Over the years, their protests had become so much less, to the point they barely even brought it up anymore.

This had given him false hope.

Arthur closed the door to his room and sank down on his bed, letting out a breathy laugh. Really, what had he expected? He should have known his parents would never accept. He'd known them for seventeen years.

Yet, he'd still held onto that small thread of hope.

It had been cut like it was nothing.

Arthur laid on his bed for god knows how long, staring up his ceiling, thinking. It must have been hours before he slowly slid off of the bed and walked over to a chest, stored in the far back of his room. He pulled it out from its hiding place and slid the key into the lock. 

He pushed the lid open and rummaged through the chest. He pulled out a bundle of clothing - black pants, white shirt and a red with golden-lined coat - and laid it on the ground. He then laid a red pirate's hat, complete with fluffy feather, upon the bundle.

Next came a large pouch, filled with coins and he laid it next to the clothing. He took a very small pouch for himself and made a mental note to go by the kitchen before he left. 

He stuffed the items into a bag, heaving it over his shoulder afterwards. He locked the chest again and stuffed it back in its hiding place. He took the key with him. 

Night had long since fallen and everyone had gone to bed, safe for a few servants and guards. 

Arthur made his way through the halls, going as quietly as he could, though he probably did not need to be. He simply did not want to risk being discovered. 

He made his way towards the kitchen. He almost forgot which way to take. The outlay of the mansion seemed different at night than during the day. Had he not escaped through the kitchen a couple of times, he would have been unable to find his way.

Once in the kitchen, he lit a candle and looked around, looking for provisions that would last for a few days. Preferably pickled things, or stuff like butter and sugar, maybe some hard bread, too. Things that will last for a while.

He collected some items and stuffed them into a separate bag.

Arthur moved out the back door, which was directly connected to the kitchen. That way food could be delivered right in front of the door.

He ran towards the road, avoiding the guards that were nearby. Not that they were paying much attention. They wished they were able to sleep, too, like the other residents of the mansion and the town. 

He stopped running when he was half-way to the town. He turned to look over his shoulder to regard the mansion for one last time. He wasn't going to see it again. At least not any time soon.

Instead of starting to feel discouraged at seeing his home for the last time, he only grew more determined.

"Farewell", he mumbled under his breath as he continued his way back to the town. 

 

 

Arthur stopped outside of Quinn's run down home. He looked at the rotting wooden door and pondered if he should knock on it. He was almost certain that if he did it would fall of its hings.

He instead went and knocked on the window, gently. Quinn was a light sleeper, he knew. She would wake up from the smallest things. Even the squeaking of a mouse could rouse her. Luckily for her, she also fell asleep quickly.

Not even a minute later, the door swung open to reveal a fully awake Quinn, although her hair betrayed that she had indeed been sleeping. 

"Artie?" She did not bother to contain her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur gripped the bags tightly. "We're going, Quinn. Tonight."

Quinn's eyes shot wide open. She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, before she ran back into her house. She returned a few seconds later with a fully stuffed bag and a grin on her face. "Oh, Artie!", she said. "I thought you'd never get on with it! Let's go!"

She took a large jump forward and started running towards the ship sales-house. 

Arthur smiled. He did not feel dejected for the first time that evening. He felt better about his choice now. He wouldn't have backed down from this, but it still felt nice to have someone by his side that fully supported him.

He rushed after Quinn, catching up with her when he sprinted. He slowed his pace when he was next to her. "So", he said, glancing at her from the corners of his eyes, "Which ship are we gonna take?"

Quinn laughed and directed a smirk a him. "I think we both know which ship, don't we, Artie?"

He snorted and that was all the confirmation she needed.

They arrived at the sales-house sooner than Arthur had anticipated, but at the same time it had felt like such a long run. 

Arthur opened one of his bags and pulled out the large pouch. "We saved enough to pay for it", he said with a smile. "This will be our last act as good civilians. Are you ready for it, Quinn?"

She nodded fervently. "Yes." She looked around and nodded towards the windowsill. "Let's put it over there." She pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket and a pen from her bag. She scribbled a quick explanation on it for the salesman and she stuffed it into the pouch after Arthur handed it to her.

Quinn dropped the pouch down, hearing the coins clatter against each other. She turned on her heels and started walking towards their chosen ship together with Arthur.

 _The Laurigera_  truly was beautiful.

Quinn was the first to climb the ladder that led to the deck. Arthur stayed to untie the ship from the port. He called up to Quinn when he had done so and she pulled in the rope. 

Arthur jumped onto the ladder and hurriedly climbed up as well. He ran to Quinn's side and helped her pull in the anchor. With ever bit that the anchor rose, the ship rose too, until they were above the rooftops and the anchor had been fully hauled in. 

Arthur took the helm and Quinn stood beside him, checking to see if they were rising properly. "A bit to the right, Artie", she said and Arthur did just that.

"Perfect", she nodded. "Now we'll have to let her rise until she's safely up in the clouds." She held up her hand and he clasped his around hers. "Nice job", they said in unison, grinning at one another.

They walked down to the lower deck and leaned over the border slightly, looking at how the town became smaller under them.

Neither regretted doing this. They felt a peace wash over them like they had never felt before.

They were on their way to make their dream a reality and that was all that really mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a writing competition on Quotev.  
> I started a little late on it, so it's a bit rushed.


End file.
